Chapter 2

The next day, Julie managed to convince Hannah to eat lunch with her and her friends. It wasn't the first time she'd tried, but this time felt different. It was as if she felt sorry for Hannah, and sought to offer her some form of protection or comfort. This was, of course, because of the events in English the day before.

"Who told you?" Hannah asked.

Julie smiled sheepishly. "Landry."

Hannah glared at the freckled boy sitting across the table from her. He was wearing his Panther jersey, wolfing down a slice of lasagna and a cup of chocolate pudding. He paid no attention to Hannah, too focused on the food in front of him. He was bouncing in his chair and nodding his head, no doubt trying to amp himself up for the game later that night.

"So, did you, you know, throw up?" Julie asked.

"No. Almost, but no. I managed to calm down." Hannah kept her eyes on the table, warmth creeping up her neck. She hadn't managed to calm down alone, but no one needed to know she had any help. Not from him, anyway.

The thought of him sitting with her in the girls' bathroom made her heart flutter, and she cursed at herself. She shouldn't even think about being attracted to him. He represented everything she hated. Football-throwing, country-playing, pickup driving, womanizer. And probably not very bright. Well, he could be, she supposed, but he was just too lazy to do anything about it.

Suddenly, the cafeteria was filled with whoops and hollers, clapping and fists banging on tables. Half of the football team had just entered the room, all in their jerseys and letterman jackets. They were all smiles and waves. Matt and Tim trailed behind and received a few whistles from the girls.

Hannah glanced back at Julie, expecting her to be annoyed. But all she saw was a look of love and devotion. It was sweet, really. They were a good match. Matt stuck out like a sore thumb on the team. He wasn't the norm.

"Clear eyes, full hearts," Smash bellowed, cupping his hands by his mouth so it echoed throughout the cafeteria.

"Can't lose," they replied in unison. And then they cheered, even Julie.

It was amazing how much energy and excitement filled the room once they arrived. In a way, it was kind of nice seeing so many people come together. Kind of. This feeling diminished for Hannah as soon as she saw the rally girls gather around Tim. He slid his arm around a girl's waist, but turned his head to face another. He was enjoying himself, that was for sure.

But then Hannah noticed that he wasn't looking at any of the rally girls. He was looking over their heads to another table. He was looking at Lyla.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and crossed her arms over her chest, almost like she was about to reprimand him.

"Is Lyla with that Tim guy or something?" Hannah asked, nodding her head in the girl's direction. 'That Tim guy.' Real smooth, Hannah.

"Who knows," said Matt, taking a seat between Julie and Hannah. "Sometimes they are, sometimes she hates his guts. No one can really figure it out."

Hannah nodded and watched as Tim moved away from the girls and followed Lyla out of the cafeteria. Maybe she really was going to reprimand him. Couldn't keep his hands to himself, and now he was in trouble. Typical, she thought.

"Are you going to the game tonight?" Julie looked hopeful.

"Um, I wasn't planning on it. I'm not really into football."

Even Landry looked up at that comment. Their stares made Hannah a bit uncomfortable, and she began shifting in her seat. This was why she didn't sit with people. It only meant future social interactions and so much more awkwardness. Such was life for a person with social anxiety.

"Oh come on, you can sit with me in the stands. Don't go for the football, go for the guys." Julie winked at Matt, and he blushed.

Hannah opened her mouth to say she wasn't into them either, but then remembered who she was sitting with. There was no excuse. If she said she had plans, they'd know she was lying.

"I don't know…I'll think about it." That should be enough. No confirmation either way.

But Julie wasn't having it. "Hannah, when's the last time you went out with some friends? You don't want to be cooped up in the house when the whole town is out here, do you?"

"Well…" Hannah caught sight of Tim as he sat down at a table across the cafeteria.

He looked angry, and maybe even a little hurt. No doubt Lyla had let him have it. He ran a hand through his long hair and crossed his boot-covered ankles. Hannah realized that Tim only had two main looks: arrogance and anger, and the rest were just varying degrees of those. And right now, his face was darkened from the latter. He had that pout to his lips, so that no matter how threatening he tried to be, his mouth always gave off something a little more sensual. And the eyes, when they looked at a person, like they were suddenly looking at Hannah, they had a certain slyness to them, like they were keeping a secret.

Hannah froze in her seat, unable to look away from him. And he didn't take his eyes off of her either. They had a stare-down from across the room. All the commotion and noise around her faded away as she looked on. He was beautiful, there was no denying that. But something was different about him in that moment, something in eyes, the way they were burning holes through her. Something that made her chest tighten and her palms go clammy.

What was he thinking? There was no way to tell. Whatever it was, he was very good at hiding it.

"Hannah? Will you come?" Julie interjected, making Hannah jump.

Tim broke the stare then, looking out the window towards the parking lot. Hannah let out a breath, realizing that she'd been holding it for a while. She looked back and forth and Julie and Matt and sighed.

"Oh, all right."

Game night. Arguably the most important night of the week for Dillon, Texas. Nearly all the shops closed down early so that their owners and employees could make their way to the high school stadium.

Hannah had never seen so many cars at the school. Some parked on side streets and walked a few blocks to the field. A few had painted their faces blue and yellow while others held up posters with their favorite players' jersey numbers. Julie had seats toward the bottom of the stands so that they were all able to make out everything Coach Taylor yelled. Hannah took her place beside Julie, who was now sandwiched between her and her mother. She could smell a mixture of popcorn and sweat, despite the fact that the players hadn't walked on the field yet. And the people in the stands, well, they were cheering at the empty field.

Thankfully, neither Julie nor her mom joined in with them, but they sat quietly, clapping their hands once and a while.

The stadium lights lit up the field, bathing it in an artificial yellow. It hurt to look directly at one. Hannah knitted her fingers together and crossed her legs. She'd have to be very patient. Who knew how long they'd be out there?

And then the school band played, trumpets blaring, drumline hammering away. The cheerleaders jumped up and down and waved their pom-poms. Hannah rolled her eyes at the short skirts and ribbons threaded through their ponytails.

The Panthers tore through a banner as they filed out of the locker room and splayed across the field. The sound of the crowd was deafening; Hannah covered her ears.

"Look, there's Matt and Landry," Julie yelled in her ear.

Hannah smiled and clapped to show her support for the boys.

The long-haired boy was the last on the field, number 33. He paid no attention to the screaming fans, and trotted over to the rest of the team. They huddled together around Coach Taylor, helmets knocking together.

Not long after, the game started, and Hannah watched as bodies slammed against each other and fans cried out. Whether they were happy or upset, she didn't know. Every so often she'd see Julie clap and she'd do the same.

It was nearly impossible for her to keep track of the little ball. Not that she was really paying attention. Instead, she found herself constantly watching number 33 ram into someone and tackle them to the ground. He was taking a beating, that was for sure. He had the most violent position, which seemed to suit him. He was letting all of his aggression out on the field. Hannah wondered if he normally performed like this, or if it had something to do with a certain brunette who hadn't bothered to show up to the game.

The Panthers were down by two, and time was running out. No one seemed bothered by the fact that there were only three minutes left on the clock. How was that enough time to do anything?

They set up a play halfway down the field. Matt screamed through his mouth guard, "Red-seven, red-seven! Hut, hut, hike!"

And then the ball disappeared as it was passed between players and blocked by the massive bodies colliding into one another.

"Where is it?" Hannah asked.

Julie pointed and screamed, "Riggins!"

She was right. Tim had managed to get his hands on the ball and was charging down the field, mowing down players left and ride. He was fast. But it wasn't his speed that guided him closer and closer to the end zone. It was the sheer force of his body pushing against his opponents. Hannah could hear the groans and huffs as they ran into him before eventually hitting the AstroTurf.

"Come on, come on!" someone behind her called.

He was so close, so close to scoring, Hannah could feel herself lean forward, just as anxious as the rest of the crowd. This was the big moment, this determined the game. Please, she found herself thinking, please make it.

Tim was right there, just a few more steps and he'd have it. Two of the players from the opposing team chased after him, giving it everything they had to catch up. But Tim was just a little bit faster, pounding his feet into the ground with each step. He was almost flying.

Hannah turned her head slightly to Julie, never removing her eyes from Tim. "He's got it."

And just as Tim took that final step onto the end zone, just as the clock stopped and people threw their arms up in a glorious victory, he was knocked to the ground. Pummeled was more like it.

There was an audible gasp from the audience as Matt and another player ran across the field. They pulled the boys off of Tim, and Coach Taylor jogged to the field. He made sure to keep a cautious pace so as not to worry the crowd.

Tim did not get up. He cradled his shoulder and kept his face down. No one knew whether to cheer for the win or be concerned that their fullback had seriously injured himself.

Hannah craned her neck as far out as possible, desperate to catch a glimpse of his face. But the helmet never came off. The medic caught up to the small group gathered around Tim and knelt down beside him. Hannah couldn't make out what they were saying, but from the looks of it, Tim had gotten hurt badly. She looked up at the scoreboard. They'd won, 21-20.

And then, suddenly, the crowd around her cheered in the stands and Hannah looked back at the field. Matt and Landry were helping Tim stand up. Hannah let out a breath of relief and closed her eyes. This. This was why she didn't like football. How could anyone want to put themselves in harm's way so often?

Julie wiped imaginary sweat off her brow and smiled at Hannah. The announcers named the Dillon Panthers as the victors, one step closer to the state championship.

After they filed out of the stands, Julie hugged her mother and beckoned Hannah to follow her. She wanted to congratulate Matt (and Landry).

As they waited outside of the locker room, players came out with towels in one hand, and bottles of water in the other. They looked exhausted. And sweaty. None of them had bothered to take a shower, they were too eager to celebrate.

Landry came out first, dragging his feet. He looked up at the girls with a lazy smile.

"We did it," he said, raising an arm above his head. The movement hurt apparently, because he quickly let it drop and began massaging it.

"Congrats, Landry," Julie said.

Hannah gave a thumbs up.

A few minutes later Matt walked out of the locker room engaged in a heated conversation with a bandaged Tim Riggins. His arm was in a sling. As soon as they eyed Julie they stopped talking. Julie hugged Matt and grimaced as the sweat seeped onto her shirt.

Tim stood off to the side, head hanging low. Hannah looked at him and shook her head.

"What?" he asked.

"How bad as it?" She gestured toward the sling.

"Dislocated my shoulder, sprained my wrist. But other than that, I'm great." He grinned, making the dimples in his cheeks more pronounced.

Hannah rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you guys want to put yourselves through that. It's so dangerous. So silly. So…"

"Hot?" Tim responded.

Hannah felt her ears burn. "I was going to say avoidable. You put yourself in that position. "

Tim scoffed. "You sayin' this is my fault?"

"What I'm saying is, this could all be avoided if you chose to not participate in a sport where the main event is colliding with boys that look too big and too old for high school."

"Yeah, but then how would I get the rally girls to do my homework?" He grinned again as he watched Hannah's jaw slightly drop.

"You got me." Hannah shrugged and turned back to Julie and Matt. "Ready to go?"

"Hold on, guys." Tim said, though he looked only at Hannah. "Are ya'll going to Smash's place to celebrate?"

Julie and Matt raised their eyebrows at Hannah, waiting for her to make the final decision.

Hannah waved them off dismissively. "I think I'm just gonna go to bed. You guys have fun."

Julie tightened her grip on her bag. "All right. I'll just have my mom take you home and then I'll head over to Smash's to meet Matt."

"No, no," Hannah wagged her finger. "You guys go. I'll call my dad."

"I don't want you waiting here by yourself, Hannah. Let me just get my mom—"

"Really, it's fine—"

"I'll take you home." Everyone turned to Tim. "I was going to pick up a few things at the store, anyway."

Hannah didn't know what to say. Let Riggins drive her home? How could he even drive with that thing on his arm? And why the hell was he offering?

"I really don't want to be an inconvenience to anyone…" Hannah started.

"It's not a problem. Matt, Julie, you guys go ahead. We got this."

Julie exchanged glances with Hannah, raising her eyebrow in question. Hannah shrugged.

"Okay then. See you later, Han."

Matt waved and the two of them were off, leaving only an injured boy and a very, very, uncomfortable girl.

Tim didn't say anything, just started walking in front of Hannah toward the parking lot. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should just stay behind and text her dad. But something inside of her told her to follow him. It told her to pick up her feet and start moving quickly, because despite his injury, Tim hadn't slowed down his pace. And so that's what she did. She followed.

When they reached his pickup truck he opened the passenger door for her. They still didn't speak when she hopped in. It wasn't until he climbed in beside her that he finally said, "Off of Saddleback, right?"

"And how exactly do you know where I live?"

He chuckled. "This is Dillon we're talkin' about. Everyone knows where everyone lives."

"Charming," she muttered.

"So…you feelin' lightheaded at all…? Any sickness or nausea?"

Hannah furrowed her brow.

"I'm just sayin', if you feel like you gotta do it, just wait for me to pull over."

She felt her face grow hot and she glared at him. "I'm not going to throw up, Tim. But thanks for your concern."

"Besides all the violence," he said, looking at her briefly, "did you enjoy the game?"

In truth, it hadn't been at all exciting until those last five minutes. But she couldn't say that. She couldn't let him think he'd won over yet another girl.

"It was…something."

"Wow, that bad, huh?"

Hannah gave a small laugh, embarrassed. "It's just not my thing. Like I'm sure Hemingway isn't yours."

Tim looked like he was about to say, "who?" but then he realized. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out like a dog, shaking his hair. Hannah found herself staring at him. Again. She snapped out of it, clearing her throat.

"What are you doing?"

"Gettin' some fresh air. Feels good."

"Because you didn't get enough of that on the field, right?"

He laughed. "You should try it. Unless, you know, you don't wanna mess up that dark, luscious hair of yours."

Whether he meant it as an insult, she didn't know, but somehow, she still felt offended.

She copied him, rolling down the window and sticking her head out. A rush of cold air hit her face, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. But then lowered her head as a barrier and closed her eyes—something he hadn't done, thankfully—and let the wind beat against her skin. When she finally opened her eyes again, she looked back inside the truck to find Tim watching her. A bemused smile spread across his face.

"You wanna go somewhere?" he asked suddenly.

Hannah felt her stomach do a back flip. "Well…I mean, where would we go?"

"There's a clearing off the highway. Good place for drinkin' beer and shootin' the shit, or just lookin' at the sky. It's pretty dark out there." When she didn't say anything he added, "But you know, you said you're tired. So it's up to you."

Now this, this was tricky. Where they'd go wasn't the problem. It was why. Why did he want to go somewhere with her? She didn't think he'd try to hurt her or anything, but he had to have some ulterior motive. Maybe he thought he'd get lucky? Not only had he wounded himself in battle, but he'd brought them a win. Did he think she'd want in on some of that?

But what if he didn't? He could easily get laid at Smash's party. That wasn't even a question. What if he just wanted to hang out, and she just happened to be the person with him. That was okay, right?

Tim was growing more and more uncomfortable with her silence. He took it as a no, and headed toward Saddleback Road.

"Can you really see the stars there?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. The sky's full of them, didn't you know?"

But she didn't laugh. She looked down at her hands and whispered, "I've never seen a night sky without city lights."

"Well," he said, making a U-turn at the stoplight, "there's a first for everything."